Thirteen
by Tobi125
Summary: Trapped on a hostile planet with no options left but to run. Just another great day for the doctor! Regeneration number Thirteen, and still he is up to the same old antics; but can he make it through these trials the same man?   adventures of 13th/14th
1. Prologue

They always seemed to be running. That must be all he had ever really done with his life, was run. The doctor ran around a corner, shivered from his fever, then chanced a glance around the corner. He had lost them a few turns back, but he was not going to take any chances. He closed his eyes as a fit of coughing could be felt coming on. As he tried to stifle the irritation, he let his mind wander back to his missing comrades. It has been days. Hopefully they were at least together, the two of them, safe and sound. He breathed in slowly, his hearts finally calming, and pushed himself from the wall he had begun to lean on, then started up his run again. He reached into his pocket, wanting to feel the comfort of his sonic screwdriver, the one device that had saved him from countless situations, but did not find it. He was not expecting it to be there, that would be too convenient. As the doctor turned another corner, he fell, his legs being unable to sustain him any longer. He hit the ground, and lay there, unmoving, not having the energy to pick himself up. He closed his eyes again, finding the darkness to be more comforting at the moment than this insane world he had thrown his friends and himself into. His thoughts raced as he lay on the ground, thinking of what horrors his comrades could be going through at the moment, or they may even be safe in the TARDIS right now. The doctor had instructed them to go to the TARDIS, but it seemed none of his passengers ever listened to him, for they had run off in the opposite direction of the TARDIS when he had last seen them on the computer monitor in the main control room. No. He could not give up, he could not rest until he knew he was going to take his friends home, back to where they belong in their own times. He had taken them from their worlds, and he was determined to take them back. He opened his eyes, wiped away hair that was sticking messily to his forehead from the sweat of the fever, and lifted himself, slowly and shakily, from the ground.

The hallways seemed completely empty as the doctor turned several more corners, only to find himself absolutely lost among the impossible amount of corridors. His breathing had become quick and short as he ran, his hearts working much too hard for his feverish body to handle. He ran on for another minute, hoping he would find an exit, needing to get back to his friends, yearning to know that they were truly alright. His vision began to blur then, and black spots appeared in his vision… and he had stopped running. He did not know when he had stopped running; time was too complicated a subject at the moment for his overheating mind to comprehend. His legs felt stiff, like he had been standing there for several minutes straight, unmoving. The thought crept into his mind, his emotions spiking as he wondered if he was losing it, if the fever was finally getting to him. He had not blacked out, he was still standing. His heart gave a quick jolt, then the other. He fell to his knees, clenching his sweat drenched shirt weakly, nothing but pain registering in his mind. Was he dying? That could not possibly be true. He was the doctor! He always saves the day in the end, even if there were a few casualties. A few for the world, he would always think as innocent lives had to be sacrificed for the good of the many. It was never a real philosophy he had become acquainted with. He always believed he had better morals than that. But he also knew that he was always wrong about everything. Another wave of pain surged into his hearts. He fell, for the fifth time that day, onto the ground, his mind becoming blank and his vision becoming dark.

Poison is such a cheap trick.

His consciousness faded in and out as he lay on the cold ground, almost welcoming the darkness, pleading for it to take away the pain. He would not have to run anymore. But, would he simply regenerate? He did not wish to. He did not know how this poison worked on a Time Lord body. Would it kill him for good, or would he come back? He focused on his breathing… in and out… in and out… but it was going so fast; he could barely keep up as his hearts beat faster and faster, and his air became shorter and harder to keep up with. The floor was his only other comfort, its coolness radiating from it, kissing his fever ridden cheek with cold. He was burning up. He was so cold… yet so hot. His vision focused for a moment, and the doctor could make out his surroundings once more. He could not discern how much time had passed, although it had felt like hours, it might have only have been seconds. The walls were gray, as he had remembered them being when he could see clearly, but something was different about them. The doctor's mind raced for a moment as he thought of what could possibly be different, when the black spots returned to his vision and he felt himself slipping into darkness. He watched the wall, shrinking in his vision, his last thought being what was he missing.


	2. The Beginning of Forever

He felt so… warm. His veins did not feel as if they were on fire, as they had seconds before… or has it been seconds? He felt heavy, his limbs weighing so much more than he could possibly lift. His eyelids were also too much for him to handle, so he focused on the warmth again. What was it coming from? He felt movement. He could feel himself moving… but… he wasn't moving himself… than, who was moving him? He concentrated, feeling pressure in the places where he was warm. His thoughts became blank for a moment… or, how long has it been? The warmth was gone, and it was cold once more. He wanted to shiver, his body no longer burning into oblivion, and he yearned for that warmth to come back. He could feel something else… pressure on his head. His head was warm… but not from the fever. It was the pressure… the soft touch of… something, or someone. He needed to see who it was. Who was touching him… who was there? He forced his eyes to open, barely a slit, but enough to make out a face above him. He opened his eyes wider and saw the eyes. He stared into them, unable to control his vision to see them clearly. It was not a friend. Those eyes did not belong to a friend. He did not know where he was, but he knew he was not safe. His eyes shut suddenly, against his own will, and the darkness consumed him once more. He awoke again, his wrists and ankles sore, and his body so cold. He did not know how long he had been lying there… wherever he was. It felt like seconds… but it could have been days. Days… days that he was without his friends, days that he had left them. So much time… he had so much, yet so little. He shivered, then forced open his eyes. His vision came into focus this time, and he could see a gray ceiling. A dark purple light illuminated the ceiling, casting long shadows of… something… across its blank surface. The doctor turned his head ever so slightly, but pain blasted through his skull mercilessly and he quickly brought it back to its original position facing the ceiling. He stayed that way for a minute, his thoughts coming to him slower than he wanted them to, when he began to hear a noise… a beeping… in the background. He focused on that, no longer able to hold onto any thoughts, and listened, counting the beats. He counted two slow, steady beats, repeating over and over, endlessly. His first thought was human heartbeat, but as he listened, he heard a strange pause in between the beats, as if something was supposed to be there, like something was absent. He listened to those beats for what seemed like hours, but he knew it had only been a few minutes. His thoughts returned to him and he tried to concentrate, but his mind became weary. He could feel himself slipping once more, but fought against the feeling, not wanting to let himself go back into the endless darkness that was his mind once more.

Voices. He heard voices. He could hear two voices speaking, coming closer. He shut his eyes as he saw two more shadows appear on the ceiling above him, and tried to make out the voices. His ears felt waterlogged as he listened to the voices, the words sounding as if they were coming through a wall, even though he knew they were only a few feet from him.

" ... Yes, he is Time Lord… would be perfect for the… vital signs are improving… brain activity suggests he is awake, yet he sleeps… " The doctor could only make out some of the conversation, his mind slipping closer to the darkness. He listened, then became surprised when he noticed the room had become silent, then nearly jumped when he felt a warm hand on his forehead. He wanted to open his eyes, to see what it was that had captured him, but knew better than that. Better to play dead for now, seeing that he will be that in a few seconds anyhow. He felt the warmth switch to his cheek as the darkness finally took control of his mind once more.

He dreamt this time. He dreamt that he had escaped and was in his TARDIS, safe with his two friends. They were laughing and having such fun, eating ice-cream, his favorite treat. They were all smiling, so happy, so peaceful; nothing could ruin this moment. His friends smiled at him, then turned around and began to walk to the door of the TARDIS. His smile faltered for a moment, curiosity creeping into his mind. He lifted himself from the chair he was in and began to walk over to the door as well. As he came closer, his friends opened the door. He stopped for a moment, then began to walk faster. He had walked halfway across the room, and was nowhere near the door, although his friends had been able to reach it in only a few strides. Why could he not walk faster? He began to jog, then run, as his friends turned around and looked at him, smiles spread across their faces, yet their eyes so melancholy, so full of hurt and regret. Then they turned back around and leaned out the open door. He reached out his hand, knowing what they were going to do, needing to get to them faster. He watched, from far away, as his friends jumped out of the TARDIS. The doctor yelled, running as fast as he could, yet never reaching the door. The yelling then became louder, more distinct. He could feel hot tears streaking down his face, rolling past his heated cheeks and onto his cold ears. He heard the yelling, but could not understand where its source was from. He began to struggle, fear for his friends and confusion clouding his mind. As he struggled, his voice cracked and the yelling stopped. His mouth stayed open as the doctor finally found the source of the yelling, his throat dry and hoarse. He opened his eyes, and light poured through. It was painful, the light, but he stared into it nonetheless, until it was suddenly pulled away. He shut his eyes again, the pain too much for his foggy mind to comprehend. The tears had stopped, but his cheeks remained wet as a hand, the same one as before, touched them and wiped them away.

" They call these tears. What the Time Lord was having is called a nightmare. "

" He will be a very interesting specimen to examine. "

The doctor opened his eyes, chancing the pain, and saw two faces leaning over him. They looked human, the doctor noted, then looked into one of their eyes. They were dark blue with white pupils. What species were they? The doctor watched them as they spoke back and forth, speaking only of the doctors medical condition. From what he caught of the conversation, he was still recovering from the poison, but was healed for the most part. The doctor slowed his breathing, which he had realized had quickened while listening to the two speak. He was waiting for them to say something… to even mention them, so he would know they were alright, but his hopes were lost as the two walked away, out of the room, and became inaudible in the distance. He would never see them again, would he? Dread clogged his mind from other emotions being able to enter and the tears began again. He had let them down, again. He always did this, to every one of his guests. He could never get it right, and he never would, would he?

The doctor sat in silence for a few minutes, his eyes becoming heavy once more, determination and sheer will being the only things keeping him awake. He had to escape. He must! He had no choice! He began to pull on his ankles and wrists, knowing that he was strapped down, but how tight? He leaned his head over to look at the restraints, flinching, expecting the pain from before, but found his head was alright now, and studied what was keeping him to the… what was he on? The doctor rubbed his cheek against the gray surface he was on, and determined it to be a metal, easily found in asteroids in the Kuiper Belt, Milky Way Galaxy. It was soft, but conducted no heat, which was bad for the doctor, for he also realized that he was not wearing any clothing. He blushed, only for a moment, embarrassment the last emotion he wanted on his mind right now. He studied his restraints again, and saw that he was not being held down by any advanced technology. It was simple leather straps keeping him to the metal bed and nothing more. He could escape from that. He began to wriggle his wrists and ankles back and forth, but could barely get any movement out of them, the restraints very tight against his skin. He stopped struggling against them for a moment, thinking of how he could escape them. He tested his strength, to see if he could simply pull up and become free, but his limbs felt heavy, like before, and he knew it was not the straps making him feel heavy. He was not yet recovered from the poison, apparently. But, how long has it been since he was brought here? Why had he not simply gone into a comatose state and heal that way? He did know that the healing process was usually self-induced, but in times of emergency, he should have shut down, but he hadn't. He kept waking, unhealed, unknowing of how much time had passed. It might have only have been a couple of hours. Perhaps this is a new poison from the era. He did not even know what century he was in! This was not his day… or week. Too many unanswered questions swam in his mind as he tried to explain his current situation. His mind, although it could do so much, was of no help to him at the moment, and he was drifting back to sleep again. This must have been the most he had slept in his whole life, he thought, then was gone once more to the silence.


	3. Endless Time

Burning. He was burning. The heat pulsed through his hearts, then circulated to his limbs and back. It was not painful; uncomfortable, maybe, but not painful. He felt his hearts beat, one, then the other, beating continuously and without fail, following one another in an endless drum beat. The heat pulsated again, and the heat intensified. His hearts skipped, then continued without fail. Where was that coming from? What was that heat? His thoughts were molasses as another wave circulated. Time felt so slow. He could feel the heat tear its way through his body, cell by cell, destroying nerves and stimulating his hearts. His hearts beat slowly, each thump slow and tedious, as if beating was becoming too much of a burden on them. His lungs were silent. He could not hear them. There was no air circulating in his body. Then, what was that heat? His thoughts came too slow. Where was he? What was happening? What- !

The doctor's thoughts were interrupted by another quick wave of heat, and his eyes shot open. The world sped up and the waves only lasted seconds, but the pain lasted longer. He opened his mouth to scream, but sucked in instead, his body begging for the air it had been deprived of for a while now. His eyes darted frantically, trying to see, but seeing nothing. His lungs filled with air, and held as another wave of heat, now painful, shot through his being. He let out the precious oxygen after the pain had dwindled a bit, and filled his lungs once more. The doctor closed his eyes, trying to focus on something to make the pain go away, but nothing could turn is attention away from this torture. He opened his eyes once more, daring to see who or what was causing this source of agony. He looked up, his vision clearing from the last jolt, his ears ringing. He saw those eyes. The dark eyes that were so hostile, so full of… nothingness. He stared up into the eyes, and they stared back. A smile spread across the other's face and they turned away and began to speak to another. The doctor listened, but the ringing was too loud. He was lying down in a different room. It was full of so much light… but there was nothing comforting where he was at all. His felt numb. He could not feel his limbs. He could not think. The eyes returned into his vision and the mouth began to move. He followed the movement of the lips, no longer wanting to stare into the empty eyes, but caught nothing of the tongue the creature was speaking. The ringing began to diminish and the room came into loud focus after a minute or so of the creature's lips moving. He could catch only a bit: " … electrocuted… will be staying with us… series of vigorous tests… enjoy your stay. " The doctor registered quickly electrocution. They were electrocuting him! For what purpose? What could these creatures possibly accomplish by electrocu-

Electricity passed easily through the doctor's body. This wave was more intense than the last, the shock bringing back the ringing in his ears and causing his hearts to fluctuate uncomfortably, as if they were trying to resist whatever these people were trying to achieve. His body arched as the electricity travelled down his spine and out through his toes and fingers. He breathed, his lungs not wanting to pull in air for the fear of another pain to enter his body. He opened his mouth, to speak, to yell, to scream, but nothing came out. His voice broke as he pulled in more air, and simply settles to focusing on that. He waited, knowing another was coming, and braced himself. It felt like hours, months, years before the next one came. It just became worse. Every one of them escalated to a new level each time they came. It continued for so long. So long. Tears rolled easily down his cold cheeks, and wetting his already sweat-soaked hair. He let out silent screams, imaginary pleads; nothing was heard. The world was silent, all except for the beating of his hearts. He could hear those alone. His body was screaming in pain, but only his hearts made any noise whatsoever. He listened as the waves worsened to beyond the breaking point, and gasped in as one wave ended and only two beats were left. His chest squeezed mercilessly, pushed against his ribbed, clawed away at his insides; there was no relief. He had felt this way before… so long ago. He was dying. He knew what it felt like to die; to die alone, to die with enemies, to die with friends, to die of his own doing, to die of another's doing. He did not want to die again. He needed to tell them to stop, he needed to stop them! He began to struggle, knowing it was useless, but trying anyways. He could do nothing more to fight back than to struggle against the only thing holding him down. His strength died away quickly, but he kept trying. Time became obsolete once more in his mind. Years could have passed and he would not have known about it. The doctor took in one more breath, before letting go of the fight and giving in, if only for the moment. He just needed a minute to rest, to gain back some energy to fight back once more… he just needed…

Silence. Nothing more, nothing less. All was silent. The ringing was gone and the pain had vanished. He was simply… numb. He could not feel the world. He could not hear the world. He could not see the world; or, at least he had not tried, and was in no hurry to after... that. He accepted where he was, content with just being there, just being. He was suspended in an endless time, in a place where nothing can ever reach him, where he will be lost forever, or at least until he opens his eyes.

The world continued without the doctor for some time, until he finally convinced himself to see the world again. He could not feel, he could not hear; he only was. He concentrated only on his eyelids; that was his first and only obstacle. They opened, slowly, but surly, and the world came into sharp focus before him, mocking him. He was not lying down. He was not on anything. He was floating… suspended inside of… some kind of liquid. The view he saw in front of him was both confusing and fascinating. He saw them… the bodies that belonged to those eyes. They were so… human, but distorted from where he was inside of, some sort of glass filled with liquid. They were watching him closely, taking notes on pads of paper -so primitive- and smiles were spread across their faces, equally as blank as their eyes. The doctor would become quite acquainted with these distorted figures through the glass. He watched them, wondering what they wanted, what they were studying, why they were studying. He watched them for hours, noting their every movement, and them noting every movement he did not make. They rarely ever left him alone; at least one was in the room with him.

The room; it was so small, at least to the doctor it was, from what he could catch through his fishbowl vision. He watched their eyes, staring back into his with no emotion. What were they? He wondered this for hours. His friends. What were they up to? What were they doing? Were they alright? Were they together? Were they happy? He speculated this endless hours more. He had so much time to think. So much time… yes so little.


End file.
